


Scar on my Pride

by Toastie_Pan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, I'll send them all to Galdin in my next story, More a what if, Not A Fix-It, sorry peeps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:47:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21582535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toastie_Pan/pseuds/Toastie_Pan
Summary: A tragic moment changes the destiny of one and the paths of the many.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	Scar on my Pride

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Folks! Yeap I've started another one so this should be fun ^.^

The moment, was as though falling. The ground warped in a strange way, the world suddenly not holding as it was supposed to, or maybe…he wasn’t held as he should be.  


Clarus Amicitia, Hand and Shield of the King, was sat at the top left of a long black marble table when he felt something, move, in his chest. The words of the councillors discussing the latest Imperial Fleet’s attempts on the Wall faded in and out, the words merging together too much as he blinked to dispel whatever had suddenly muddled his mind. The lights were bright, too bright and he felt his uniform tight around his neck. His hand come up, regardless of the impropriety to pull slightly at the tight collar aware of how hot the room suddenly felt.  


Then he felt that something in his chest, _twist._  


It pulled a sharp grimace from his face even through his trained stoicism and he turned to his King, first thought on whether his King was similarly affected, his mind racing over possibilities. Was this an assassination attempt? Had the water been poisoned? Was his King in danger? He had to get Regis out, get him safe, protect him and call for his son to protect the Pri-  


‘Umpf.’ The utterance punched out from between his clenched teeth took him by surprise as the pain that had been so muffled became so much more pronounced. It rippled through his chest, his arm aching beneath his chainmail. He needs that arm to brace his sword, how can he protect his King if he can’t wield his blade? Eyes darting around the room for threats and seeing only the concern and panic of the council around him. Clarus allowed a single sliver of fear seep through his worry as his mind wound through all possibilities, ending in the last thought. There was no ulterior motive, no dagger in the dark and no threat to his King.  


This was just him, and his body suddenly but inexplicably failing him.  


‘Clarus?’  


The worried tone of his Liege made Clarus try to pull his shoulders straight to assure him that all is well, that he won’t fail him or add to the worries that already crush him daily, but the attempt to straighten, constricted him tighter. He turned to his King, worried eyes meeting eyes stormy with fear and panic. He wanted nothing more than to remove that, to bring back his calm regality or dare he ask the Astrals; bring back his smile and his laughter. But it was suddenly all out of his hands as he felt his strength that he had built and held for so many years, slip from him like water from a cup. And that was when Clarus’ eyes widened finally in fear. His body, no longer in his control slid from his chair, landing heavily on the floor at the feet of his King, who scrambled out of his own chair as quickly as his drained body could, his cane clattering to the floor in his haste.  


‘Clarus! Clarus? Damn you, what is wrong?’ Regis cried, clutching his friend’s hand tightly before turning to the council. ‘A Doctor!’ he cried urgently, ‘Bring a Doctor!’  


‘My…King…’ he tried, his strength failing even as Regis scrambled to open the collar of Clarus’ uniform, the moment bringing clarity to what was happening with a despair more crushing than the pain in his chest.  


He was having a heart attack.  


‘Don’t try to speak, Clarus. Save your strength.’  


‘…Regis…’  


Regis met Clarus’ eyes, terrified of what he saw there, his heart shattering when Clarus smiled at him.  


‘Look after them…Gladiolus…Iris…’  


‘No. No Clarus. You…you cannot leave me like this.’ Regis looked on in horror as Clarus’ face went silent, his eyes dim; his hand quiet in Regis’ shaking grasp.  


  


_I’m sorry, my friend._

  


^.^…^.^

Noctis grunted as he hit the ground, again. Before he would have pouted, whinged and made up some excuse, but instead he rolled, switching to his dagger and warping away, switching to his sword in mid-air and warping back to his target.  


The sword clanged as it made contact with the broadside of Gladiolus’ blade, Gladiolus himself grinning viciously as he swung it across, catching Noctis in mid-air and slamming him back to the ground.  


‘Dammit!’  


‘Good instinct, Noct, come on!’ Gladiolus urged, bringing his sword back over his shoulder.  


Chuckling to himself, Noctis got back up, purposefully not pulling out a weapon but instead, dropping into a ready stance before carefully approaching.  


‘You actually complimenting me?' Noctis smirked, 'What is it my birthday-whoa!’  


Phasing out of the way of the heafty blade suddenly thrown at him, Noctis couldn’t help the accompanying laugh that the adrenaline pulled from him.  


‘Eyes open Princess!’  


Turning back to Gladiolus, he quickly ducked at the fist that swung in a haymaker at his head, bringing his arms up instinctively in defence before ducking and aiming a punch under Gladiolus’ ribs.  


He dodged deftly to the side, the punch hitting air before jabbing his own at Noctis’ chest. Noctis dropped before flipping back, kicking Gladiolus’ arm away, darting back in, dropping low and swinging his leg out, following through and spinning back to standing just as Gladiolus’ bulk hit the ground with a heavy thud.  


Both were breathing heavily, each catching their breaths.  


‘You’ve been training with Iggy behind my back huh?’ Gladiolus finally said, wiping the sweat out of his eyes before sitting up cross legged, back straight.  


‘What gave it away?’ Noctis laughed, moving next to him and collapsing by Gladiolus’ side, cross-legged as well as they had so many times before.  


Gladiolus laughed.  


‘You can’t go pulling backflips on me an’ not expect me to blame Iggy.’  


‘Ahh…you got me there.’ Noctis pouted before chuckling himself, clearly putting it on.  


‘Ye got me though,’ Gladiolus smiled, ‘you’re coming along.’  


Instead of replying Noctis ducked his head, scratching at his neck before getting up, Gladiolus following.  


‘Right, clean up time.’ Noctis finally said, ‘Specs should be here soon t-‘  


‘Highness!’  


The panic laden voice of Ignis interrupted their movements as he burst into the room. His eyes wide and tension rippled through his usually precise form.  


‘Ignis? Wha-?’  


The Prince of Lucis was interrupted once again as a bell echoed through the Citadel, the sound never having being heard in Noctis’ life, but it’s meaning well known.  


‘N-No…’  


Adrenaline flushed through him, leading to rage. He turned to Ignis.  


‘What the hell has happened?!’  


‘T-The King?’ Gladiolus asked carefully, noticing Ignis was not meeting his eyes.  


‘The King lives, Noct.’ Ignis got out eventually, Noctis clearly deflating at that statement.  


‘Then what the hell reason are the bells going?’ Gladiolus said, fists clenching. The bells declared the death of the King. Was this some sort of prank?  


‘Lord Shield…he…’  


Noctis turned to Gladiolus, eyes wide before turning back to Ignis who shakily took a breath before looking directly in Gladiolus’ eyes.  


His heart beat heavily in his chest at Ignis’ look, his stomach dropping like lead down into the ground, pinpricks of ice skittered across his heavily tattooed arms.  


‘Ignis.’ He didn’t know what he was imploring as he looked, but something…anything…  


‘Lord Shield, has passed.’ Ignis answered, before looking away. ‘A cardiac failure. You are both required before the King; immediately.’  


The world.  


  


_Stopped._  


No sound, no movement, just nothing.  


Then he blinked, surprised at the burning of his eyes, realised he’d been staring to long and blinked, looking at the floor but then he felt a hand touching his arm.  


‘Gladio…?’ Noctis asked, concerned blue eyes looking up at him.  


‘Mhm?’ he replied, he felt slow, not quite here.  


‘You…you’re crying.’  


Gladiolus started, standing up straight before turning and hurridly wiping at his eyes, yeah yeah there were tears there.  


Dammit.  


‘The King has called for us?’ he asked, his voice thankfully not coming out too hoarse.  


Ignis nodded without fanfare before turning and Gladiolus had never loved him more.  


‘Follow me.’  


Noctis watched Gladiolus’ broad back held straight head past him before following behind, holding his head up too.  


If Gladiolus could wall tall in a moment such as this, so could he.  


The bells echoed throughout the Citadel and word was spread across the city through the news channels and the large screens that surrounded the squares.  


The Shield was dead and the city was in mourning.  


  


  


^.^……..^.^  


  


  


Gladiolus stood, military ready, arms behind his back before the King. He heard Noctis, rail against what the King said, even Ignis stepped forward in his suspicion of foul play, but Gladiolus just stood as his duty determined, waiting for the King’s orders.  


‘An investigation will be brought up in case something had occurred to that nature,’ the King answered carefully, ‘but it seems that this was simply a…’ Regis swallowed, hard. ‘A terrible incident.’  


Behind his back, Gladiolus’ fists clenched harder.  


‘But-!’  


‘Enough, my son. We have matters to address, namely,’ he looked pointedly at Gladiolus, ‘the matter of succession.’  


‘Eh?’ Noctis paused, looking between the King and Gladiolus, even Ignis’ eyes widened. ‘Gladio?’  


‘If he is deemed worthy under the Marshall’s and Captain Drautos’ training then he shall step up as the King’s Shield. The city shall mourn for two weeks, then after that time it will be expected of Gladiolus to sign the appropriate paperwork confirming his position as Head of the Amicitia Household.’  


The air was thick with tension as the King finished, Ignis and Noctis both struck dumb by the revelation. Noctis wanted to say ‘what the hell?’ but the statement of ‘but he’s my shield’ would just confirm to his Father that he’s still a child holding onto his things. If Gladio was stepping up, then he supposed he had to too.  


He’d ask Ignis to help him with the details later...  


But despite that, they were waiting for Gladio, who hadn’t moved from his position since they had arrived.  


Without a change in his face, Gladiolus brought his fist over his heart and bowed deep before the King before rising once more.  


‘I am not my Father.’ He said calmly, voice deep. ‘But I will work to make him proud, I am honoured by your faith. If there is nothing further, Your Grace…’he faltered, barely, ‘I must go to my sister.’  


The pain that swept across Regis’ features was quickly masked and across from him Ignis adjusted his glasses carefully. Noctis turned away, his knuckles white.  


‘Of course, Gladiolus. Dismissed. The funeral is arranged for three days time. I shall see you then.’  


Bowing once more, Gladiolus left, leaving Noctis and Ignis to stare in his wake.


End file.
